The teardrops of constellations are shimmering in the cloudless night sky. Another summer is fading away just like her hopes for his coming. Bit by bit coldness of the end of August steals all joy and summer plants that are never meant to be. Standing by the large study window and gazing into the darkness of garden Misha could feel how hot current of pain, despair and anger goes through the whole of her body and pinches her right into the heart thus spreading incurable venom of apathy through her veins. Suddenly burning emotions turn into cold indifference making her feel nothing at all even that fact that she stands with her bare feet on the wooden floor seems to go unnoticed by her for she has merged with iciness.
She knew everything would be like this but still the little, even tiny, creature called hope was igniting over and over again thought that ‘He will come! He will be there for her because he promised!’ How foolish she was to believe it! It seems that her waiting will never end. In fact, she does not remember a day without waiting him to come. Her mom used to say ‘Honey, he`ll come because he promised! It is your birthday!’ or concert, competition, debate or other important event in her life. Her mother`s phrase was so often repeated that it turned into a strange stylistic devise compared to a metaphor that means impossible but very desirable thing to happen like a miracle but more than that. It seemed to her that miracles happen oftener than her father appears in her life. Vistas of long forgotten memories captured her mind completely even a loud brake squeak went unnoticed. She continues to stand motionless by the window as someone enters the house and confident steps become louder and louder until they stop and door to the study opens and a tall, handsome man enters. His words pull her from her vision of past.
‘Why are you here, darling?’ asks Mr. Walker bewildered.
‘What kind of routine I wonder?’ asks Mr. Walker as his bewilderment grows.
‘Well, as usual, dad, waiting. I`m waiting for you to come.’
‘Honey, you know I’m trying to be with all of you but it is not that simple as it seems. I can`t drop everything and start spending more time with you and your siblings. I need to find someone with whom I will share some of my responsibilities, so that I could have more time for you. In fact I’m planning a trip. Where do you want to go?’ asks Mr. Walker cheerfully.
‘Nowhere. Why you didn`t show up today? You promised!’ there can be heard notes of anger in Misha`s voice as she turns to her father.
‘I had very important meeting today. You know I do it for your good! I don`t want you to live like I did! I want you to be happy and have everything so that you won`t know what it means to share a room with 5 people or feel hunger.’ says Mr. Walker as he approaches his daughter.
Misha stares at him for a moment as if seeing a stranger and then asks.
‘What makes this day different? do you know what happened today?’
‘Your brother had a game today if I’m not mistaken.’ Misha`s father answers.
‘You miss the most important events in lives of your children. It`s your work has turned you into a clockwork. You work and work and work. After mom`s death you dived into your papers and pointless meetings. Why you meet strangers but are unable to see you kids for a moment at least? You fly in other countries on unpronounceable islands to shake hand of a stranger but you cannot spare a moment to watch your son`s game! In fact, the only one who was interested in us was mom. How like Damian is to be with her’
‘What do you mean?’
‘You should have watched the game, dad. It was a drop dead game.’
